


Dissolving Time

by simplesetgo



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Quinn this is the culmination of countless daydreams and secret wishes on stars; what is it for Rachel? Faberry first time fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissolving Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: contains abuse of the English language because I felt like breaking rules today.

Quinn doesn’t believe in fate.

But something is responsible for this; something brought this into motion: her thudding heart, her quickening breath, at the feel of Rachel’s hands all over her, at the sight of her dark eyes hooded with want—or eye shadow, or maybe both. Sitting up on Rachel’s bed, Quinn lets Rachel pull her shirt over her head, and for a moment there is a lull, where they come dangerously close to stopping, before this goes too far, where Quinn feels vulnerable and Rachel looks unsure. Quinn swallows hard, guides Rachel’s hand to her breast, guides Rachel’s mouth to her own. Quinn is sure of far fewer things than she would have everyone believe, but when her lips meet Rachel’s, she is sure of this, sure of the connection between them, sure that there is no other path forward, for her, than this.

Quinn is afraid that, while she’s kissing Rachel, she’ll reveal just how badly she wants this, because surely, if Rachel knew, if she had any idea, this would stop—and now, with the taste of Rachel’s lips on her tongue, _finally_ , Quinn thinks if it stops she might die. She wonders if Rachel has ever kissed a girl before, if Quinn is her first, but if she is, Rachel is surprisingly confident, kissing Quinn back with equal fervor.

Rachel’s eyes flutter shut as Quinn lifts her shirt off of her. Her bra is simple white cotton, and it suits her, striking against her darker skin. Quinn wants to tear it off with her teeth, but quickly realizes that would be a Bad Thing to try at this exact point in time. Quinn asks with her eyes, hands gliding up and down Rachel’s sides, her skin smooth and soft and warm under Quinn’s palms, in a gesture she hopes is comforting and maybe a little arousing. It works, Quinn knows, when Rachel gently pushes her down on her back, leans down and kisses her again, her back arching to push her chest against Quinn.

Quinn moans against Rachel’s lips, sighs at the sensation of Rachel’s breasts pressed against her own, revels in kissing Rachel, the slow slide of their tongues together, while she unfastens her bra. It’s a simple action, familiar to her as a female, but for them, here and now, it’s another step forward. Rachel lifts herself, slightly, and Quinn pulls her bra free, tosses it to the side, her breath catching at the beauty of Rachel before her. This moment, this image, this memory, is something no one will ever be able to take from her, and Quinn savors it, drinks it in—the way Rachel’s eyes are a stormy mix of arousal and excitement, the way her dusky nipples are hard peaks on her breasts, the way soft waves of her dark hair cascade down her tanned shoulders.

But while there is pleasure in looking, Quinn knows, there is more pleasure in touching.

Quinn cups Rachel’s breasts, swallows when Rachel sighs softly and leans into her. “Your.” Rachel falters. “I want…” Quinn slowly arches her back from the bed, strong and tight, biting her lip at the way Rachel breathes in sharply; Quinn is offering herself, to her, for her, and Rachel is overwhelmed: Quinn sees it in her eyes, before she feels it in the way Rachel fumbles clumsily at the clasp of her bra under her body. Rachel’s head drops to her shoulder, where she kisses Quinn, a gentle, experimental press of her soft lips. She pulls Quinn’s bra free, and her lips travel to Quinn’s neck, where she grows more confident, likely because Quinn is shivering with every kiss—every touch of her warm mouth, with just enough tongue, is sending bolts of sensation down her spine.

“You’re giving me goosebumps,” Quinn says, almost in awe, and Rachel looks up at her, blinking slowly, like she’s just remembered something important.

“Quinn, I-I haven’t done this before,” she says, brow furrowing. “I don’t…”

Quinn strokes Rachel’s hair, sliding her hand to cup Rachel’s jaw, thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I haven’t either,” she says softly, and it’s true, because Rachel is Rachel, and there are no others. “But I like it.” She swallows, and she watches Rachel closely. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Rachel says, immediately. Her eyes drift down, to where Quinn’s breasts are rising and falling. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, Quinn. Before you, I thought…”

“My face is up here,” Quinn says when Rachel trails off staring at her chest, biting her lip as she smiles.

Rachel giggles, and Quinn thinks the sound of her laughter could heal the sick and mend the broken.

The sensation of Rachel’s mouth on her breast catches her off guard in its intensity. Rachel sucks lightly at her nipple, releases it with a gentle slide from her lips, and Quinn takes a shaky breath, arching up into Rachel’s mouth. It’s less of a question, a plea, more of a demand, but Rachel meets her, sucking harder at her other nipple, tapping it with her tongue until Quinn moans. Quinn finds a fistful of bedsheet and squeezes, hard enough to let her be gentle with the hand petting Rachel’s hair, fingers sliding through the soft, thick tresses.

Then Rachel goes lower, and before Quinn knows what’s happening, the buttons on her pants are undone, and Rachel is dropping kisses into her navel, trailing lower, until she’s sucking lightly at the skin above her waist, like they are experienced lovers, and oh _shit_ , this is actually happening. Quinn’s hips lift from the bed on their own and Rachel tugs down on her pants by the waist, and so much for teasing because her panties are going with them.

This is going totally, completely backwards, though—Quinn was supposed to lay Rachel out and worship her entire body, make her come so hard until she didn’t know her own name, preferably a few times, and then if Rachel wanted to return the favor Quinn supposes at that point she would have earned it. She’s thought about this, more than she’d ever admit aloud, but she never thought her preconceptions would affect the reality itself; never gave it much of a chance, in the first place, but here she is, and she needs to just go with it. She kicks off her pants and she’s completely bare, and for a moment, Rachel is looking at her, hungry gaze skidding all over her body, making her feel _wanted_ , like she’s never felt before, not like this. Quinn lets her thighs fall apart, ever so slightly.

She thinks Rachel might be hesitant still, to ask her for final permission, even, but she discounted a trait Rachel shares with herself: when she wants something, she is driven, focused, unapologetic, and given that Quinn couldn’t be more consenting without signing a form, Rachel simply takes what she wants.

Quinn takes her lower lip between her teeth, arching slightly, shuddering, when Rachel touches her for the first time, their gazes locked. Rachel drags fingertips through the wet folds of Quinn’s sex, lightly, exploring and testing the way Quinn reacts, and Quinn knows she has never been more sensitive to touch, to anyone, than now.

“I’m going to try this,” Rachel says, her angelic voice rough around the edges as she repositions herself between Quinn’s legs. “I don’t think I’ll be very good.”

“It won’t take much,” Quinn says softly. “I’m really, really…turned on, right now.”

Rachel pauses, her mouth an inch from Quinn’s sex, and Quinn whimpers to herself. “From me?” Rachel asks.

“All of you,” Quinn says, lowering her eyes. “Seeing you, kissing you, feeling you…”

Rachel smiles at her, then her brow furrows in concentration as she licks through Quinn’s folds. The sensation is like the spark of a wildfire, and Quinn throws her head back as it consumes her, growing hotter with every full stroke of Rachel’s tongue. “Oh my God,” Quinn moans. “R-Rachel…”

It’s like everything she thought would it be, but more, and different—and better, so much better. If they were starting from scratch technique might matter, and Rachel’s clumsiness might have an impact, but Quinn is wound so tight that the soft brushes of Rachel’s tongue over her clit are enough to send her reeling. She tries to prolong it, to enjoy it, but—“Holy shit,” Quinn gasps. She comes, all in a rush, arching up into Rachel’s mouth, raw pleasure throbbing heavily in her core, her orgasm stealing her breath in its intensity. She realizes has a tight fistful of Rachel’s hair in one of her hands, and releases it with a shaky hand as a pleasant glow settles in her core.

Rachel is watching her, her eyes wide in awe, and Quinn gives her a sated smile. “Told you it wouldn’t take much,” she says. “So _good_ , though.” She beckons Rachel, and Rachel climbs up to her, her small body resting over Quinn’s as Quinn pulls her in for a kiss, arm wrapped around her neck, holding her tight. Quinn tastes her own release on Rachel’s lips, moans when Rachel pushes her tongue into Quinn’s mouth. She runs her hands up and down Rachel’s back as they kiss, venturing down to her hips, cupping her ass through her plaid skirt and squeezing—something she’s wanted to do for a long, long time, ever since she first caught a glance of Rachel bending over in one of her infamous skirts.

Quinn shifts and flips them over, laying Rachel out on her back, even grabbing a pillow to place under Rachel’s head. This may not have gone exactly according to plan, but the most important part is that Rachel enjoys this as much as possible. “I can’t believe this is happening,” Rachel says softly, her hands trailing over Quinn’s skin wherever she can reach. “I am the luckiest girl in the world right now.”

“I don’t think so,” Quinn laughs. She tugs meaningfully at the waist of Rachel’s skirt. “That’s me.”

Rachel smiles and lifts her hips, letting Quinn pull her skirt down and off of her. Quinn drops it on the floor. Rachel’s panties are white cotton, just like her bra, and Quinn decides to leave them on her for now; she’s always wondered what it would be like to slide her hand down Rachel’s panties, and this is her chance. Quinn stretches out over Rachel’s body, dropping kisses on her soft lips while her fingers trail closer and closer between Rachel’s legs.

After slowing down in the afterglow of her orgasm, Quinn’s heart is thumping again as her hand slips inside Rachel’s panties, finding heat and soft flesh and an unexpected amount of wetness. Rachel gasps against her mouth at the contact and Quinn breathes in her exhale, cups her sex with her hand and rubs lightly, and realizes this is her moment, this is what she’s imagined so many times; by the look on Rachel’s face, one of rapture and _yes_ and _finally_ , Quinn lets herself believe Rachel has imagined this too.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” someone says, voice low and rough, and too late Quinn realizes it was her, panic seizing her chest because this was supposed to be spur-of-the-moment experimentation; anything more would surely scare Rachel away.

But Rachel doesn’t shriek, or throw Quinn off of her, or wiggle away and dart for the door. She moans, “Me too,” and rolls her hips against Quinn’s hand.

“Really?” Quinn says, like an idiot, hope making her chest light.

“Yes,” Rachel says, and pouts slightly. “Quinn…you stopped.”

“What? Oh, sorry.” Quinn strokes her fingers through Rachel’s slick folds, and Rachel sighs happily, raising her hand to cup Quinn’s neck. Quinn kisses her lips, then the corner of her mouth, her dimple as she smiles, her jaw, then down to her neck, where she kisses her pulse point, suckling lightly with tongue, making Rachel groan into her ear. Quinn dips the tips of two fingers into the soaked entrance of Rachel’s sex, and Rachel gasps, arches into her, making Quinn smile against her skin. “You want more?” she husks, and Rachel just moans.

Quinn fucks into her up to her knuckles, baring her teeth at the tight, clenching heat of her inner walls—she’s _inside_ her, Rachel has let her into her body, and Quinn never wants to leave. She fucks Rachel with slow, deep strokes, curling her fingers in search of the spot in her channel that will drive her over the edge; adds another finger when Rachel begs for it, begs for Quinn to fill her up.

“I’m close,” Rachel breathes out. “Quinn, I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

Quinn increases her pace, fucks her faster, deeper, slamming her fingers into Rachel’s sex as hard as her panties will let her; she kisses all over Rachel’s neck, venturing down to her shoulder, sucking lightly at her bare flesh—and when it happens, when Rachel’s body clenches down on her and Rachel gasps brokenly, Quinn curls her fingers and strokes her inner walls, guiding her through and holding on, grinning at the way Rachel’s hands seize at her shoulders and squeeze.

“Oh, oh, oh, _fuck_ ,” Rachel pants. “Oh, Quinn, wow, that...amazing.”

Quinn smiles and withdraws her fingers, raising her brow at how they’re shining with Rachel’s come. “Thank you,” she remembers to say, before she takes her fingers in her mouth to suck them clean, closing her eyes to memorize the tangy, sweet taste of Rachel’s release.

There is cuddling, afterwards, because Rachel can’t seem to let go of her and Quinn can’t seem to mind. They’re on their sides facing each other, legs tangled together and hands joined between them, and Rachel asks, “Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“What we did,” Rachel says, and pauses, eyes lowering. “You said you had been wanting it for…so long.”

“I don’t want to scare you away,” Quinn says quietly, cautiously.

“We just had sex, Quinn,” Rachel says softly. “And it was amazing, but what will scare me the most right now is if you let me think it didn’t mean anything. It meant something, didn’t it?”

Quinn’s eyes widen; she didn’t think of that. “It meant everything,” she says. “Everything, Rachel.” She lifts their hands to her lips and kisses Rachel’s knuckles.

Rachel smiles, and Quinn’s world seems that much brighter. “Me too,” Rachel whispers. “I was so scared that you would never speak to me again if I told you how I felt. I couldn’t live with that, so I never said anything.”

Quinn had never dared to dream this part. “I’m going to kiss you,” she says, brushing her lips against the back of Rachel’s hand. “And then I’m going to ask you out, okay?”

Rachel’s dark eyes widen, but she nods. “Okay.”

Quinn doesn’t believe in fate, but she thanks it, for this, just in case. 


End file.
